


Sleeping Darling

by dango96



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Humor, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romance, Sleeping Beauty Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24848056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dango96/pseuds/dango96
Summary: 5 years after Byleth falls, her former students find her at the bottom of the cliff - unharmed, but in an unbreakable slumber. They search for a cure, but the only clue to be found is in a children's storybook: the story of "Sleeping Darling".If the story is true, then the only thing that can wake Byleth is the kiss of the one she loves most. The only problem is that no one knows who that is - including the one she loves, because Byleth never told them.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 10
Kudos: 174
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Sleeping Darling

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on 3houseskinkmeme:
> 
> "Byleth is found still sleeping after the timeskip. Only true love’s kiss will wake them. Which means the person who loves them (or who they love) has to reveal themselves in order to wake Byleth.
> 
> (I just ask that this not provoke a humorous take where the ship is mocked. While crackships are fun, that’s not what I’m looking for here)"
> 
> Please enjoy!

It's Edelgard's idea to go back to the Monastery, to search for Byleth on the eve of the millennium festival. They'd searched after the battle five years ago, had done the best they could at the time, to no avail - but they were barely older than children then, and there was hardly time to do a more thorough search when a war was beginning.

There is an odd, profound sadness among them, her old students, as they look through the rubble at the bottom of the cliff - all of them know that, _if_ she is found, it will be in the form of mere bones.

They want to find her, regardless, and even Bernadetta comes along. Officially, it's to rescue her Crest Stone and the Sword of the Creator, to make sure they don't fall back into the hands of the Church. But more than that, it's to honor their promise to meet again - and to lay their dear professor to rest, like she deserves.

But then everything changes when Caspar's voice breaks the still morning air.

"She's alive!"

At once, the entire Black Eagle Strike Force converges on his position, and he is true to his word: Byleth's face is sticking out of the rubble, tousled green hair around her face, cheeks smudged with dirt and scraped but otherwise none worse for the wear. She's unconscious, but her nostrils subtly flare every few seconds, inhaling and exhaling.

It's a shock to all of them, and they explode into murmurs and questions. Defying all odds and logic, she survived the fall, somehow survived for five _years_ without food or water... and is here, _asleep_.

"I am not believing it," Petra mumbles, dropping down onto her knee. "Professor?"

"She's really alive," Edelgard concurs, her tone almost reverent. "My teacher... we should've found you sooner."

"It must be the Goddess's power," Linhardt points out. "We should probably get her out from under there, though."

"Linhardt is right. Everyone, get her out of the rubble!" Edelgard commands, rushing to start pushing away rocks and debris. "We need a healer over here!"

They unearth her before long, her clothes torn and scuffed, the Sword of the Creator at her side. Her hair has grown with the years, long strands of seafoam that stretch down to her waist, fanning out around her unconscious body as Petra gently picks her up then lays her on a bedcot.

"Mercedes," Dorothea softly beckons. "What can you do for her?"

Mercedes draws closer and sits beside her, her hands hovering above Byleth's body, lighting up with the familiar glow of Faith magic. They slowly move down over her chest, performing an inventory of her vital functions.

Her eyes widen with surprise, and then scrunch into a frown. But she doesn't speak until she's done, drawing her hands back.

"I don't think she's in danger. But... it's like she's under some kind of spell."

"A spell?" Ferdinand asks curiously. "What kind of spell?"

"I don't know." Mercedes' frown only deepens. "It's not a spell I recognize, but... I think it's keeping her from waking up."

"The Garreg Mach library might have more information," Linhardt nods, uncharacteristically alert in the way he only gets whenever something catches his interest, "if it hasn't been looted too badly yet. Let's bring her back there."

Edelgard bends down to grab the stretcher, as cautiously as if they're transporting glass. "Hubert, give me a hand."

Hubert frowns, silent as he watches all of this, dutifully kneeling to grab the other end.

\--

A mattress is dragged into the Archbishop's chambers on the second floor, and that is where Byleth is laid down - more comfortable than one of the cots in the infirmary, and there is a certain sentimentality as they carefully lower her onto silk pillows and sheets. Mercedes and Manuela act as nurses, wiping dirt and grime from her body, gently healing the cuts and scrapes from rocks and rubble.

Linhardt, Lysithea and Annette set themselves to the task of combing the upstairs library for helpful information, while Yuri and Hapi head to the Abyss to retrieve books from their own library that might be relevant. Marianne prays quietly to the Goddess for her awakening, kneeling in front of the stained glass windows.

And Hubert continues to frown, standing on the sidelines, his arms folded across his chest.

"Hubert," Edelgard finally says, her tone soft but causing him to stand at attention regardless. "We're supposed to be celebrating. What's troubling you?"

"This seems far too convenient. Don't you think so, Your Majesty?"

Her eyes widen slightly, then return to their relaxed position. "You think this is a trick?"

"I am merely saying that it seems rather suspect that we would find her now, alive and hardly worse for the wear." Hubert's gaze wanders to the mattress, to their slumbering professor in the middle of it, hands folded across the Sword of the Creator laid on her chest. "We don't even know if it's her."

She easily catches onto the direction of his thoughts, but it doesn't appear to bother her. "We haven't yet won the war, Hubert. I doubt _they_ would resort to such a cruel trick - not while they still have use for us."

"Then the Church-"

"-has not shown any sign of having disguises this sophisticated," Edelgard interrupts. "And I highly doubt they would leave the Sword of the Creator for us to find."

Hubert sighs quietly, his shoulders sinking with the smallest release of stress. Of course his lady has considered these things - he is being paranoid, again. But then that would mean...

"Then she truly has returned to us," Hubert utters quietly, a complicated array of feelings surfacing within him. He had never trusted their professor - had despised her, even as she tried to, beyond all logic, befriend him. Indeed, she seemed to spend most of her leisure time attempting to get in his good graces, which only made him _more_ suspicious.

Eventually, he begrudgingly came to respect her, if only for her skill on the battlefield. Then he was abruptly forced to reckon with her swearing fealty to Lady Edelgard - seeing her in an entirely new light, as an ally, as a _friend_. And then...

And then she had died, as suddenly as anything. He'd felt something like grief or regret, but had quickly smothered it, far more concerned with supporting Edelgard through her own grieving process.

Now, as abruptly as she'd been lost, here she is. And how does he feel? He truly can't say. The relief starting to trickle in feels foreign and uncomfortable after so many years of grim resignation, like an ill-fitting glove.

But beside him, Edelgard is smiling. That, at the very least, is something he can be happy about.

\--

Days pass, and their newfound hope is wearing thin.

None of the books on common - or _un_ common - magical maladies discuss unbreakable slumbers. Even the tomes on dark magic, borrowed from the corners of Abyss's library, mention nothing of the sort. The only thing comparable is the innumerable poisons that would accomplish similar effects, putting someone into a coma or pseudo-death state.

But there are no symptoms of poisoning otherwise - only their professor sleeping, silent and peaceful, in the middle of the room.

Gradually, that room becomes a bit of a mess, filled with stacks of tomes and dinner plates from the dining hall. So desperate are they to revive their dear Professor that several of them only leave the room to use the facilities or sleep, and others constantly cycle in and out of the room, asking if there's been any change in her condition.

Their 'breakthrough', if you could call it that, finally comes from an unlikely source: it's Ashe, clutching a worn picture book with an illustration of a sleeping girl on the front of it.

"What if it's like the story of Sleeping Darling?"

Most of them look at him in abject confusion, but Lysithea scoffs, her hands on her hips. "Are you kidding me? That's just a story for kids!"

"No, I'd like to hear him out," Edelgard interrupts, eyes alert despite the dark circles around them. "Ashe, what is Sleeping Darling?"

Ashe bites his lip, visibly a little nervous at the amount of eyes on him all of a sudden, but he opens the book and begins to read. "Well, it starts with this princess..."

_The princess was beautiful and desired, but she was vain and rude, and took advantage of the people._

_The Goddess frowned upon her, and came to her one day, intending to punish her for her wickedness._

_The princess begged for mercy, so the Goddess gave her the option: refuse to change and abdicate the throne, or fall into a deep slumber from which no one could wake her, so that she could reflect on her actions and become a better, kinder, stronger person._

_She chose sleep, and slept for many years. The only thing that could break the spell was the kiss of the one she loved most, a prince who had ignored her before for her wicked ways._

_One day, he heard the story of how she had willingly chosen to change, and was so impressed that he traveled to her kingdom. He came to her chambers and kissed her while she slept. The spell was instantly broken, and she woke up a changed person, humble and loving._

"...and then they married and joined their two kingdoms, and the people rejoiced, and the Goddess smiled," Ashe concludes, closing the book on the final page.

There's a long pause as the information sinks in.

"So you're saying that the Goddess's power is capable of putting people into long slumbers," Edelgard murmurs, rubbing her chin in thought. "And our teacher will only wake up if the one she loves most kisses her?"

"But... we don't even know _who_ the Professor loves!" Annette exclaims. "I mean, do we? She never mentioned anybody..."

"In that case, maybe we should take turns kissing her until we find out who it is?" Sylvain grins, but his eyes are tired in contrast to his flirtatious humor - he'd volunteered to stay up and help bring books back and forth between libraries. "I can start."

"Seriously? That's what we're doing now?" Felix growls. "Ashe reads us one fairy tale and we start having people line up to kiss her?"

"You have to admit we don't have any other ideas," Edelgard sighs. "I'm willing to try anything at this point, and... well, it seems awfully harmless. I hate to say it, but Sylvain is right."

"Your Majesty?" Hubert interjects, raising his brow in surprise. In the background, he can hear Lysithea groaning in exasperation, and Felix tsking quietly to himself.

"Round everyone up at once, Hubert." Edelgard turns to face him. "We're going to discover our teacher's one true love."

\--

Five years ago, almost as if sensing the war ahead, Byleth had made it her personal duty to recruit the best and brightest from both the Golden Deer and Blue Lions classrooms, not to mention the Ashen Wolves - and the Black Eagle Strike Force had resultingly counted over twenty strong. In Byleth's absence, Edelgard had taken control of her former fellow students, turning them into a veritable army with connections all over Fodlan.

But in present circumstances, it makes for a rather crowded affair - a long line leads out of the Archbishop's chambers, the students-turned-generals chatting with each other with a mixture of apprehension, confusion, and excitement. Even Shamir and Manuela join their ranks, Shamir standoffishly waiting at the end of the line and Manuela happily conversing away with Dorothea.

There's little ceremony or pretense attached. After all, the rules are simple - get on the bed, kiss the Professor, see if it works, then let the next person have a try.

Edelgard is first in line, her movements delicate as she straddles Byleth's unconscious form, afraid to harm her. Her kiss is soft, chaste - almost picturesque, her long silver hair draping past Byleth's peach-toned cheeks.

Seconds pass, and as seconds turn to minutes, nothing seems to happen. Finally, with a disappointed look, Edelgard dismounts the mattress, walking over to stand on the sidelines beside Hubert with her arms crossed.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Hubert murmurs to her, as Caspar scrambles onto the bed to test his luck.

"It's quite alright, Hubert," Edelgard sighs. "It was a mere childhood crush, anyway."

Caspar's efforts bear no fruit, nor Ferdinand after him - Linhardt lingers for far too long, mumbling something about the effects of her Crest, and has to be pushed off by Dorothea, who looks rather beautiful as she dips her head to press an opera-worthy kiss to Byleth's lips. Manuela's kiss is similarly theatric.

But neither of them accomplish anything, and Petra has similar results, frowning in consternation as their professor refuses to stir. She follows Manuela and Dorothea off to the side as well, and Edelgard looks a bit relieved as her company grows.

Finally, Bernadetta kisses Byleth as lightly and as hesitantly as a butterfly landing on her lips - and promptly squeaks in alarm, running out of the room like she just kissed a bomb instead of a human being.

"I hope that counted as a kiss," Dorothea mumbles.

"Well, their lips touched," Edelgard chuckles.

Next in line are the ex-Blue Lions - Sylvain, eager to test his own idea, makes a show out of bending down and smooching the professor for much longer than is necessary, only stopped by Ingrid yanking his ear hard enough to pull him off. Ingrid looks far beyond bashful as she briefly pecks Byleth's lips, unaccustomed to kissing women, and she ignores Sylvain's attempts to coax her into a more enthusiastic second try.

Ashe, who had originally suggested all of this, looks nearly as bashful as Ingrid did, his hands trembling as he awkwardly kisses her upper lip. He looks a little disappointed, in stark contrast to Felix, who looks _relieved_ when nothing happens from his efforts.

Mercedes and Annette are similar in their reactions, giggling shyly as they awkwardly straddle her, but they are also similar in their end result: which is to say, nothing happens.

"This is starting to look like a fool's errand," Edelgard mumbles, rubbing her forehead. "Perhaps this was silly."

"You're only just now starting to realize that?" Felix grunts, shooting a glare at her.

"Well, _I_ thouuaah-" Linhardt yawns, covering his mouth with his hand. "-thought it was a worthy avenue of investigation. We're not making progress anywhere else, after all."

The efforts of the former Golden Deer are, unfortunately enough, just as unproductive as the rest. Raphael's kiss eclipses her lips with the size of his mouth, but she still does not stir. Lorenz leans down with similar dramatic flair to Dorothea, delicately pecking her like the hero of a romantic novel, then mumbles something about how she isn't of noble blood and they would never be able to be together, anyway.

Lysithea and Marianne are both shy about it in different ways. Lysithea makes a show of grumbling about how it's _pointless_ even as her cheeks turn red, and Marianne actually apologizes to Byleth both before and after she kisses her.

There's a certain tension in the room as they draw near to the end of possible candidates, excitement that they might discover Byleth's secret crush mixed with apprehension that this entire thing may have been for naught. Edelgard starts to bite her nails, already imagining that they'll have to go back to the drawing board, once more combing and re-combing heavy tomes for answers.

Ignatz, too, is unable to wake her - and he scrambles off of her with a red face, mumbling something about his first kiss. Leonie, in stark contrast, barely wastes any time at all, pressing a very businesslike kiss to her lips then scooting off of her as if she'd expected no result to begin with.

Shamir begrudgingly partakes, as briefly as Leonie had - and Jeritza after her, having joined the line at some point, his movements stiff and awkward. And finally, the Ashen Wolves are quick to file in afterward, each rather brief for their own reasons.

A profound silence fills the room as Byleth doesn't stir, her chest simply continuing to rise and fall in a slow, even rhythm.

"Well, _that_ was pointless," Felix grumbles.

"I told you it was a kid's book!" Lysithea shoots a glare at Ashe, who sheepishly shrugs his shoulders.

"It was fun, at least, right?" Sylvain points out. "Like... I don't know, a team-building activity. Everybody gets to look stupid kissing the professor."

"But we're no closer to figuring out what's wrong with her," Mercedes frowns. "What could it possibly be?"

"Maybe it's time to go back to the library," Linhardt mumbles, all of his enthusiasm rapidly draining at the prospect of retreading his steps. "Or maybe time to take a nap."

"Um- aren't we forgetting someone?"

The room falls into a hush as everyone's eyes fall on Annette, who promptly looks rather sheepish.

"I mean-" Annette stammers. "I mean, there's one person here who didn't kiss her, right?"

Edelgard is the first to catch on - and Hubert feels himself go cold as she turns to look at him, her eyebrows raised.

"She's right, Hubert. You're the only one who didn't partake."

"Must I?" Hubert grimaces as he feels a flush of embarrassment creeping onto his cheeks. "I hardly see the point."

"He's right, you know," Ferdinand grins, cutting in. "I doubt our Professor would harbor a crush on such a ghoul of a man."

Hubert shoots him a venomous glare. Unfortunately, Ferdinand seems to have been developing an immunity, and appears undaunted.

"I hate to agree with Ferdinand," Hubert grumbles, "but women are scarcely drawn to my appearance. It would be a waste of time."

"You should do it anyway," Linhardt waves a hand. "For science."

"Please, Hubert," Edelgard asks softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "For the sake of being thorough."

Oh, he _hates_ that tone of voice. She _knows_ he can't refuse her when she uses that gentle, pleading tone.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Hubert sighs, crossing the room and steeling himself, trying to ignore the eyes on his back.

He easily climbs onto the mattress and swings a leg over Byleth, straddling her - and then hesitates. It should be easy enough to follow a simple order from Edelgard, but...

But their professor is captivatingly beautiful, her soft pink lips flushed and wet from being kissed so much. Her long, pale hair is a bit dirty, but the way it fans out across the mattress makes her look like a princess in a storybook. Or, perhaps more apt, a mural of the Goddess.

And Hubert has never kissed anyone. Not once. Let alone someone so gorgeous, when he himself is so often treated as hideous, with his white skin and heavy brow and gaunt cheekbones - surely, she would never willingly do this were she awake.

To make matters worse, everyone is _watching_. Waiting. He hears an occasional giggle, here and there, surely at his expense.

_Well. We'd better get this over with._

With a quiet sigh, Hubert inclines his head, sweeping his bangs back so that they don't fall into Byleth's face. And he presses his lips gently to hers, clumsily parting them for a brief moment in the motion of a kiss.

Then he quickly pulls back, preparing to climb off and return to Her Majesty's side, feeling his cheeks burning with the humiliation of it.

But then it _happens_.

Byleth draws in a sharp inhale, and her eyes _open_.

"Hubert?" Byleth mumbles sleepily, voice raspy and rough from sleep, like her throat is dry.

He freezes like a statue, his face suddenly draining of color, eyes wide. No one says anything for a long moment, the entire room going deathly quiet.

It's Edelgard who finally breaks the silence. "What is everyone waiting for? Get her some water! Some food! Go!"

The crowd suddenly starts to move in a frenzy, as if they'd been under a spell that had similarly broken. Hubert snaps to attention, feeling like a wooden puppet on strings as he starts to climb off of her - only to flinch when Edelgard barks a command at him. "Not you, Hubert, you fool! Stay with her!"

"What's going on?" Byleth groans. "What are you wearing? Why is everyone-"

"We," Hubert finally forces his jaw to move, deliberately not looking at her. "We will explain in a moment. Try to rest, Professor."

She squints in confusion as he covers the lower half of his face with a gloved hand, blushing furiously.

\--

Byleth is brought three things: pillows to help prop her up in bed, a plate of scrambled eggs, and a tall glass of water. She moves slowly at first, disoriented - but after the first bite, practically inhales the rest of her meal with how fast she devours it. The water disappears just as quickly.

Three more plates of scrambled eggs later, she looks revitalized, if still slightly drowsy. She blinks dumbly at the crowd gathered around her.

"Can someone please explain what's going on?"

"You've been asleep for five years, Professor," Edelgard says. "We found you at the bottom of a cliff. The same cliff you fell to the bottom of during the Battle of Garreg Mach."

"Five years?" Byleth slowly looks around, eyes widening in recognition. "That explains why you're all... older. But how..."

"It would appear that your power, the Goddess's powaaauuh..." Linhardt interjects, stifling another yawn. "... mmput you into an unbreakable slumber. Like some kind of curse. Probably just to keep you from dying from all the rocks that were on top of you, though."

"We've been trying to wake you up for days," Marianne adds, voice barely above a whisper.

"The Goddess's power... that's right, I did have a dream about Sothis." Byleth mumbles. "But how did you wake me?"

The crowd falls abruptly silent, and once more, Hubert feels all eyes on him. He'd been awkwardly sitting at the foot of the bed for all of this, trying to act invisible, not speaking or moving.

"What?" Byleth frowns. "What is it?"

"Supposedly, the spell could only be broken by one thing." Mercedes looks entirely too cheerful for this, and Hubert hates her for that - the way she's smiling at him, as if to congratulate him. "The kiss from the one you love most."

"And Hubert kissed you!" Raphael adds, very helpfully.

"A fluke, I'm certain," Hubert grits out, trying to maintain some of his composure even with his cheeks burning. "It was from a children's fable. And even if it were the answer, _every single person here_ kissed you. Perhaps it happens on a delay, and..."

Hubert's words die in his throat as soon as he sees the way Byleth is looking at him - she's _blushing_ , bashfully wrapping a strand of hair around her finger.

Oh, no.

"Actually..." Byleth lowers her head into her shoulders, expression positively sheepish. "It's not how I wanted to tell you, but..."

Oh, no, no, no. This is not happening - not now, not in front of all of these _people_.

"Perhaps," Hubert interrupts, his entire face rapidly turning scarlet, "we can talk about this somewhere else. In private."

The crowd alights with murmurs and giggles, even as it parts to allow them through. Hubert helps Byleth off of the mattress - her legs nearly give out from underneath her, and she leans on him to support herself, wobbling a little as they walk.

Before they leave, he catches sight of Her Majesty beaming at him - and allows himself the small disobedience of scowling at her. Briefly.

\--

They wind up in the Archbishop's bedroom, of all places, long-untouched and covered in a thin layer of dust. The bed is far more comfortable than the students' mattresses, and they both sit down, side by side.

And they are, despite that they'd come here with the intent to talk, both awkwardly silent. Fidgeting, not looking at each other. Both of them are introverted, not particularly skilled at matters of small talk.

Hubert's brain buzzes with innumerable questions, but he can hardly focus on any of them. His mind keeps going back to the memory of Byleth's soft lips, and her pale green eyes - how they'd opened, not for anyone else, but for _him_.

It feels rather like a fever dream. Or a nightmare. He hasn't decided yet.

"I like you," Byleth finally mumbles, interrupting his train of thought.

Oh.

Well. He'd expected that, considering the circumstances. It doesn't make it any less alien to hear, though.

" _Why?_ " Hubert asks, incredulousness leaking into his voice. "Why me?"

He recalls the array of men and women who had kissed her - a group from all walks of life, filled with beauties and dashingly handsome men, heirs and heiresses. Even an emperor among them - _the_ emperor, Lady Edelgard. A perfect woman in every respect.

Byleth had even had Edelgard's favor, and he can't help feeling guilty for inexplicably stealing Byleth's affections from his lord.

"You're smart," Byleth points out, meeting his eyes. At least he's not the only one blushing. "And you're fascinating. You're the only one who never opened up to me, and I wanted to get to know you. And the more I tried, the more I became drawn to you."

"I threatened to kill you," Hubert points out bluntly. "Multiple times."

"That's kind of part of your charm," Byleth smirks, and Hubert can't help the small smile that quirks his lips. "And more than that, you..."

She trails off, hesitating. Hubert suddenly finds himself wanting terribly to know what she has to say.

"Yes?"

"You act like you know what it's like to feel alone," Byleth murmurs, her eyes lowering. "Even when you're surrounded by people."

His breath catches in his throat.

"Is that how you feel?"

"Always," she replies softly. "I always feel alone. Now, more than ever. I thought, maybe, if you felt the same way, then if we were together... neither of us would feel alone."

A beat passes between them, Byleth fidgeting with the frayed hem of her shorts.

"You're not entirely correct." Hubert finds himself surprised at the gentleness of his own voice. "I am not alone, not exactly. I walk beside Lady Edelgard on her path."

Byleth's expression smooths over, as if preparing herself for rejection. It's eerie how quickly she goes back to being emotionless - even after her transformation had seemingly allowed her to become a more open person, she still has flashes of that stoic behavior.

"But that path is a lonely one. And..." His hand awkwardly moves to eclipse hers, feeling rather like a fish out of water. He's never been one for romantic gestures, never had any experience with it to draw upon. "If you wished to walk beside me, then I would not object."

Byleth's eyes soften, turning her hand so that their fingers lace, palms slotting together.

A silence stretches between them again - but this time, it's a more comfortable one. A certain tension lingers in the air, a hint of nervous excitement.

Once again, it's Byleth who breaks it. "I heard that you kissed me."

"Yes," Hubert replies, an odd flutter in his belly at her words, "I did."

"I wasn't awake for it." She smiles. "Would you do it again?"

For some reason, that smile takes his breath away.

"If you'd like."

He leans in, bridging the gap between them, and feels his heartbeat growing faster as she squeezes his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment! It means a lot!


End file.
